


Do that again, like we've never done this before

by orphan_account



Category: LazyTown
Genre: Body Worship, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Trans Character, heat - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 02:19:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9051358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Elves and fae don't always mix well, but at least Glanni came prepared.





	

When Ithro wakes up, everything is fine. He’s curled around a warm body, lax from a good workout the night before, and the hotel they’re in seems to have some sort of wake-up system. He untangles himself from the clinging arms of the person beside him. The body curls around the empty sheet, breathing still even. 

He stretches himself out carefully on the hotel carpet, slipping into an easy routine, but he’s sweating more than normal- which is, at all. He springs up to check the thermostat  
Thermostat is normal, even a bit cold. 

Ithro glances over to the bundle in bed, smiling slightly as he sees that world-renowned criminal Glanni Glaepur has wrapped himself up like a burrito, with only his short hair peeking out. He tugs the blankets down slightly to see inside, and Glanni doesn’t respond to the intrusion. Glaepur is well and truly asleep after his “workout” last night, and even through Ithro had crowded him in the shower, there’s still traces of dried liquid on his face- probably the lubricant. Ithro doesn’t see this sight often, even if he does wake up before Glanni. It’s admittedly endearing. 

He just wants to see those swollen lips around the head of his cock again, spread wide around the off-orange of his strapon.

The sudden stab of heat coiling in his new. He’s by no means new to his own sexuality, but just one round the night before has always been enough. And he’s starting to be aroused simply by staring as his sleeping partner- no foreplay necessary. He furrows his brow slightly, and moves toward the bathroom. The water from the sink is blissfully cold on his throat, and he absentmindedly palms at his crotch. No need for another shower after last night, even if a cold one would help. Might as well just work this out with some good old physical exercise. The strain of his muscles should help redirect the blood.

He moves back out of the bathroom and drops to the floor, landing in push up position. As he moves up and down, he starts counting. One. Two. Three. 

He hits 100 and stops. The pushups aren’t doing anything- his arms are trembling slightly, just like when he holds Glaepur’s neck in his hands and chokes him for all of his oxygen, like when he holds the man down on the bed or up against the wall. 

The coffee pot chimes, and Ithro jolts, looking up to see Glanni standing sleepily by the minikitchen, coffeepot in hand. He’s pouring sugar into it, gazing blearily at the sports elf. His eyelids are partially lowered, and Ithro feels another stab of heat in his gut as he tears his eyes away from Glanni’s face. His eyes get stuck again as he notices Glanni is only wearing a baggy pair of sweatpants he pulled from somewhere, riding low on his hipbones where there’s just the softest bit of fat to pad out his thick thighs and big hips. There’s a dark purple mark directly above those hipbones, and Ithro finds himself wanting nothing more than to grab a handful and press his face directly into Glanni’s crotch.

He SMELLS good. The coffee smells good. Glanni smells like sleep and sweat and Ithro can smell him from his stunned place on the carpet where he’s staring, open-mouthed, at Glanni.

Glanni, for all his “prowess”, has not noticed. He sits on the edge of the bed, full coffeepot raised to his lips, and Ithro watches like he’s a hypnotized man as Glanni’s adam’s apple bobs with each swallow. He crawls forward slowly, and the second his hands are within range, he grabs Glaepur’s thighs and pulls the sweatpants down enough to bite down on his hipbones. There’s a thick sputtering sound above him, and he can feel liquid flecks on his shoulders as Glanni chokes on the coffee in surprise. Ithro licks one long stripe from the corner of the hipbone down, to plant a kiss on Glanni’s treasure trail before pulling back.

He puts a hand to his crotch. He’s soaking wet. He can feel it through his underwear.

“Glaepur.”

Glanni’s still wiping coffee off his face and chest, and Ithro follows the caramel drops down over his chest. He rises to his feet, and shoves Glanni back, hands slamming the broad shoulders down into the bed as he chases the drops with his tongue. He can feel the half hard dick against his stomach, and his entire body rebels against him as he starts humping against it, shimmying so he’s sitting on Glanni’s crotch, nails digging into the pale shoulders, tunnel visioned on the spit shiny trails on the chest in front of him. 

“Wh-what have you DONE?” He fists the sheet next to Glanni’s head, ignoring the sarcastic comment he can’t focus on as he grinds down. He wants that. He wants that in him. He wants Glaepur in him right now. This has to be a trick, some trap to keep him out of Glanni’s way, to make him submit to the criminal. He wants to hump and grind like some sort of aroused mutt, wants to be full and held down and that is simply unacceptable.

Completely acceptable. His traitorous brain supplies. Ass up in the air, thick body behind you, full, fucked completely out of thoughts. No worries, no concerns, just the drag of something pouding you senseless. And that something is beneath you.

Ithro feels his orgasm after it happens. He’s got a hand fisted in his own hair, back arched as he comes directly into his already-wet boxers, Glanni Glaepur pinned beneath him. He breathes heavily, shoulders sagging as he meets the criminal’s eyes. 

Glanni is smiling, and a spike of anger shoots through Ithro. “What have you DONE?” He demands again, voice cracking. 

“Nothing yet.” The smooth voice replies, and Ithro feels himself lifted to his feet. He stumbles backwards, and a hand grabs him by the hips and leads him through the room until he’s staring at himself in the mirror.

His pupils are blown wide, cheeks and ear tips flushed dark. Glanni sits down toilet lid, sliding out a box in the corner of Ithro’s vision as he stares, gape-mouthed, as his own lewd reflection. Glanni stands up, moving behind Ithro, and he feels a wet finger press against his ass.

“I heard once that elves experience a heat cycle, but it’s hard to put faith in anything you hear from fae.”

Ithro feels himself lock up, but a gentle slide of a hand down his hip turns his entire body into jelly.

“Looks like it turns out elven heat is triggered by fae. Look at you whine and beg. Needier than I’ve ever been, and we both know I how I like it.”

Ithro spins around and slams Glanni into the wall, lunging forward with his teeth to kiss the other. He feels something around his wrists, and suddenly, he’s being dragged back by his arms. There’s cold metal wrapped around his wrists, and his arms are trapped behind his back. He’s leaning on the bathroom counter, and Glanni, looking smug, is holding a key. 

Ithro stumbles forward, jerking his head to look at the mirror to see handcuffs locked snugly around his wrists. When he turns forward again, Glanni is there, hips pressed flush to his, kissing the air out of him. There’s something in his mouth other than tongue, and whatever it is tastes like stale magic and chalk, but suddenly, everything’s much clearer. 

Glanni breaks the kiss.

“That should help. Now, back to the bed?”

“You are far too prepared for this.”

“I always have a plan.”

Glanni sits Ithro down on the bed with a firm hand, settling onto his knees between Ithro’s. “Lay back.”

Ithro doesn’t, and Glanni raises an eyebrow. He lifts Ithro’s leg, pressing a kiss to the ankle, and Ithro feels himself heating up again. Glanni’s fingers are kneading gently at his thighs as he begins to murmur. 

“Wh…. what are the handcuffs for, Glaepur?”  
“You don’t get to touch yourself just yet.”

Glanni’s kneading of his muscles becomes slow little circles as he moves in closer, nose in the seam of his hip and thigh as he bites down, leaving a dark mark. He murmurs something about strong legs, and slides a hand up Ithro’s chest. The elf bows backward, spine arching as fingers smooth their way over his scars. 

The click of the lubricant is louder than Ithro’s own breathing to him, and he tries to expose himself a bit more subtly that using his legs to shove Glanni’s face into his crotch. He does so by throwing his legs over Glanni’s shoulders and dragging him closer by the shoulders as hands spread his asscheeks. The lubricant is cold against his hot skin, and he wiggles slightly. “I’m not fragile.” 

Glanni continues lazily with one finger. “Of course not.”

Ithro bucks his hips again, and Glanni responds with a sharp smack to his thigh, causing him to jump. When he stills again, Glanni goes back to gently leaving marks up and down Ithro’s legs. Ithro bites down on his lip, watching Glanni’s lips work on his skin as the fingers return to his ass with more lubricant. It burns slightly this time, and Glanni’s thrusting in down to his knuckles now, gently scissoring his long fingers. Ithro’s head falls back, gently bucking his hips as far as Robbie will let him. 

The world eventually dissolves into that slow in and out, the burn in his stomach, and the mouth on his legs. In this stupor, he can hear Glanni murmuring to him, sweet nothings intermixed with dirty language, and then something cold- and big- presses gently to his entrance. “You did so good, taking all four fingers….. Deep breath.”

He obeys, pulling in as much air into his lungs as possible as whatever blunt object it is presses slowly into him. His exhale becomes a moan, and he feels Glanni patting his ass gently as whatever he’s put into him is fully seated. 

Full, full, full- his brain chants, and Ithro squirms on the sheets, peeking up at a very smug Glanni between his legs.

“Do you like your plug?”

Ithro’s jaw drops open as whatever he was about to say cuts off with a deep, rumbling moan. Glanni’s pressing his lips to Ithro’s cock in a faux kiss. He jerks his hips up in Glanni’s face, and Glanni grabs his hips and leans in. Ithro can feel Glanni smiling against his thigh as he toys with the base of the plug gently. “You’ll have to ask nicer than that.”

Glanni’s hand props Ithro’s leg up on his shoulder, and pulls gently at the base, stretching Ithro to the widest part of the plug. “What do we say?”  
“P...please.” Ithro barely reconginzes his own voice. It’s ragged with exhaustion and deep with arousal, and he squeaks the ‘e’ out as Glanni taps on the plug with a nail.

“Good enough. I’m hungry.”

Glanni’s breath ghosts over his cock, and Ithro feels his wrists strain and suddenly, he’s grabbing Glanni’s head. The shattered pieces of the handcuffs hit various objects in the room, but Ithro doesn’t care. He’s dragged Glanni in, half letting the man work with his mouth, half riding his face. He digs his nails in, wailing as Glanni puts his entire mouth over his cock and sucks hair. Glanni jerks and Ithro feels him rumble slightly in displease, and then-

Glanni gives one of his deep growls with his lips sealed over Ithro’s cock, and the elf sees white. 

Ithro can hear himself panting just barely over the ringing of his ears, and he feels the next growl more than he hears it as he bends fully over Glanni’s head, hands keeping the man pinned in his crotch as he works through his next immediate orgasm. Glanni’s mouth keeps going- just as eager as Ithro, and the elf drags welts into his neck. He’s shaking by the third orgasm, and releases Glanni’s head to drop back. There’s a wet slide of tongue on his thigh, and a soft kiss. He wheezes softly, and peers up to look at his partner.

Glanni looks shellshocked. His eyes are half lidded and hazy, hair mussed and sticking up in places. Red nail marks are dragged into his pale skin, and his mouth hangs open, slick with Ithro’s come and his own spit. He’s breathing like a man half-drowned, and gently petting Ithro’s thigh with his fingertips.

Ithro’s crotch makes a very strong case in getting it back up, but he had a better idea. He sits up slowly and leans down, collapsing onto the floor and overtop Glanni as he kisses the rest of the man’s air away.

Between heaving breaths, he gives Glanni a sharp grin. 

“If you can last ten more minutes, I’ll let you fuck me with the plug in.”

Glanni’s sharp intake gives Ithro all the information he needs. He won’t make it, of course, but that’s a little revenge for the handcuffs.

He leans in for another kiss.


End file.
